iX 


7>m 


.m 


WeU>  If  you  knows  o 


F 


OKM1A 


FRAGMENTS 
FROM   FRANCE 


BY 

CAPTAIN  BRUCE  BAIRNSFATHER 

AUTHOR    OF    "BULLETS    AND    BILLETS" 


G.  P.  PUTNAM'S  SONS 
NEW  YORK  AND  LONDON 

TTbe  Ikntcfeerbocfeer  press 

1917 


tEbe  Unfcfeerbocfcer  press,  flew  JJorft 


FOREWORD 

By  the  Editor  of  "  The  Bystander/ 


Tommy  went  out  to  the  great  war,  he  went 
smiling,  and  singing  the  latest  ditty  of  the  halls.  The 
enemy  scowled.  War,  said  his  professors  of  kultur 
and  his  hymnsters  of  hate,  could  never  be  waged  in  the  Tipperary 
spirit,  and  the  nation  that  sent  to  the  front  soldiers  who  sang  and 
laughed  must  be  the  very  decadent  England  they  had  all  along 
denounced  as  unworthy  of  world-power. 

I  fear  the  enemy  will  be  even  more  infuriated  when  he  turns 
over  the  pages  of  this  book.  In  it  the  spirit  of  the  British  citizen 
soldier,  who,  hating  war  as  he 
hated  hell,  flocked  to  the 
colours  to  have  his  whack  at 
the  apostles  of  blood  and  iron, 
is  translated  to  cold  and  per- 
manent print.  Here  is  the 
great  war  reduced  to  grim  and 
gruesome  absurdity.  It  is  not 
fun  poked  by  a  mere  looker-on, 
it  is  the  fun  felt  in  the  war  by 
one  who  has  been  through  it. 

Captain  Bruce  Bairns- 
father  has  stayed  at  that 
"farm"  which  is  portrayed  in 
the  double  page  of  the  book;  CAPTAIN  BRUCE  BAIRXSFATHER. 


he  has  endured  that  shell-swept  "  'ole  "  that  is  depicted  on  the  cover; 
he  has  watched  the  disappearance  of  that  "  blinkin'  parapet"  shown 
on  one  page;  has  had  his  hair  cut  under  fire  as  shown  on  another. 
And  having  been  through  it  all,  he  has  just  put  down  what  he  has 
seen  and  heard  and  felt  and  smelt  and — laughed  at. 

Captain  Bairnsfather  went  to  the  front  in  no  mood  of  a  "chiel 
takin'  notes. "  It  was  the  notes  that  took  him.  Before  the  war, 
some  time  a  regular  soldier,  some  time  an  engineer,  he  had  little 
other  idea  than  to  sketch  for  mischief,  on  walls  and  shirt  cuffs,  and 
tablecloths.  Without  the  war  he  might  never  have  put  pencil  to 
paper  for  publication.  But  the  war  insisted. 

It  is  not  for  his  mere  editor  to  forecast  his  vogue  in  posterity. 
Naturally  I  hope  it  will  be  a  lasting  one,  but  I  am  prejudiced.  Let 
me,  however,  quote  a  letter  which  reached  Captain  Bairnsfather 
from  somewhere  in  France: 

'Twenty  years  after  peace  has  been  declared  there  will 
be  no  more  potent  stimulus  to  the  recollections  of  an  old 
soldier  than  your  admirable  sketches  of  trench  life.  May 
I,  with  all  deference,  congratulate  you  on  your  humour, 
your  fidelity,  your  something-else  not  easily  defined — I 
mean  your  power  of  expressing  in  black  and  white  a  con- 
dition of  mind. " 

I  hope  that  this  forecast  is  a  true  one.  If  this  sketch  book  is 
worthy  to  outlast  the  days  of  the  war,  and  to  be  kept  for  remem- 
brance on  the  shelves  of  those  who  have  lived  through  it,  it  will 
have  done  its  bit.  For  will  it  not  be  a  standing  reminder  of  the 
ingloriousness  of  war,  its  preposterous  absurdity,  and  of  its  futility 
as  a  means  of  settling  the  affairs  of  nations? 


When  the  ardent  Jingo  of  the  day  after  to-morrow  rattles  the 
sabre,  let  there  be  somewhere  handy  a  copy  of  "Fragments  from 
France"  that  can  be  opened  in  front  of  him,  at  any  page,  just  to 
remind  him  of  what  war  is  really  like  as  it  is  fought  in  "civilised" 
times. 

Captain  Bairnsfather  has  become  a  household  word — or  perhaps 
one  should  say  a  trench-hold  word.  Who  is  ever  the  worse  for  a 
laugh?  Certainly  not  the  soldier  in  trench  or  dug-out  or  shell- 
swept  billet.  Rather  may  it  be  said  that  the  Bairnsfather  laughter 
has  acted  in  thousands  of  cases  as  an  antidote  to  the  bane  of 
depression.  It  is  the  good  fortune  of  the  British  Army  to  possess 
such  an  antidote,  and  the  ill- 
fortune  of  the  other  belligerents 
that  they  do  not  possess  its 
equivalent. 

A  Scots  officer,  writing  in  the 
Edinburgh  Evening  News,  hits  the 
true  sentiment  towards  Bairns- 
father of  the  Army  in  France 
when  he  writes: 

'To  us  out  here  the 
'Fragments'  are  the  very 
quintessence  of  life.  We 
sit  moping  over  a  smoky 
charcoal  fire  in  a  dug-out. 
Suddenly  someone,  more 


wide-awake  than  others  re- 
members the  'Fragments.' 
Out  it  comes,  and  we  laugh 


CAPTAIN*    BHUCE    BAIRXSFATHEU 

This  picture  was  taken  at  the  Front,  less  than  a 
quarter  of  a  mile  from  the  German  trenches. 
Captain  Bairnsfather  has  come  "  straight  off  the 
mud,"  and  is  wearing  a  fur  coat,  a  Balaclava 
helmet,  and  gum  boots.  Immediately  behind 
him  is  a  hole  made  by  a  "  Jack  Johnson  "  shell 


uproariously  over  each  picture  For  are  these  not  the 
very  things  we  are  witnessing  every  day,  incidents  full  of 
tragic  humour?  The  fed-up  spirit  you  see  on  the  faces  of 
Bairnsfather's  pictures  is  a  sham — a  mask  beneath  which 
there  lies  something  that  is  essentially  British. " 

In  a  communication  received  by  Captain  Bairnsfather  an  emi- 
nent Member  of  Parliament  writes:  "You  are  rising  to  be  a  factor 
in  the  situation,  just  as  Gillray  was  a  factor  in  the  Napoleonic 
wars. "  The  difference  is,  however,  that  instead  of  turning  his 
satire  exclusively  upon  the  enemy,  as  did  Gillray,  Captain  Bairns- 
father  turns  his — good-humouredly  always— 
on  his  fellow- warriors.  This  habit  of  ours  of 
making  fun  of  ourselves  has  come  by  now  to 
be  fairly  well  understood  by  even  the  most 
sensitive  and  serious-minded  of  our  continental 
friends  and  neighbours.  It  hardly  needs  nowa- 
days to  be  pointed  out  that  it  is  a  fixed  condition 
of  the  national  life  that  wherever  Britons  are 
working  together  in  any  common  object,  whether  in  school,  college, 
profession,  or  even  warfare,  they  must  never  appear  to  be  regard- 
ing their  occupation  too  seriously.  Those  who  know  us — and  who, 
nowadays,  has  the  excuse  for  not  knowing  us,  seeing  how  very 
much  we  have  been  discussed? — understand  that  our  frivolity  is 
apparent  and  not  real.  Because  we  have  the  gift  of  laughter,  we 
are  no  less  appreciative  of  grim  realities  than  are  our  scowling 
enemies,  and  nobody  knows  that  better  in  these  days  than  those 
scowling  enemies  themselves. 

Their  hymns  of  hate  and  prayers  for  punishment  have  been 
impotent  expressions  of  exasperation  at  our  coolness,  deliberation, 


and  inflexible  determination  —  qualities  they  had  deluded  them- 
selves before  the  war  into  believing  would  prove  all  a  sham  before 
the  first  blast  of  frightful  ness.  They  told  themselves  that,  a  war 
once  actually  begun,  the  imperturbable  pipe-smoking  John  Bull 
would  be  transformed  into  a  cowering  craven.  More  complete 
confusion  of  this  false  belief  is  nowhere  to  be  found  than  in  these 
"Fragments."  It  ranks  as  a  colossal  German  defeat  that  suc- 
cessive bloodthirsty  assaults  upon  us  by  land,  sea,  and  air  should 
produce  a  Bairnsfather,  depicting  the  "  contemptible  little  Army,  " 
swollen  out  of  all  recognition,  settling  humorously  down  to  war  as 
though  it  were  the  normal  business  of  life. 

"Fed  up"?  Yes,  that  is  the  word  by  which  to  describe,  if  you 
like,  the  prevalent  Bairnsfather  expression  of  countenance.  But 
the  kind  of  weariness  he  depicts  is  the  reverse  of  the  kind  that 
implies  "give  up."  Au  contraire,  mes  amis!  The  "fed-up" 
Bairnsfather  man  is  a  fixture.  "«/'?/  suis,"  he  might  exclaim,  if  he 
spoke  French,  "  et  il  m'embete  que  j'y  suis.  Je  voudrais  que  je  rfy  sois 
pas.  Mais  j'y  suis,  et,  mes  bons  camarades,  par  tous  les  dieux,  fy 


If  the  enemy  should  read  in  the  words  "fed  up"  a  sign  that  our 
tenacity  is  giving  out,  he  reads  it  wrong;  grim  will  be  the  disillu- 
sionment of  any  hopes  he  may  build  upon  his  misreading,  and 
even  grimmer  the  anger  of  those  whom  he  may  have  deluded. 

These  verdammte  Englander  are  never  what  they  seem,  but  are 
always  something  unpleasantly  different.  We  are  the  Great  Enig- 
ma of  the  war,  and  in  our  mystery  lies  our  greatest  strength.  Let 
us  be  careful  not  to  lose  it.  Those  who  wrould  have  us  simplify 
ourselves  upon  the  continental  model,  and  present  to  the  world 
a  picture  of  sombre  seriousness,  are  asking  us  to  change  our 


national  character.  Cromwell  asked  the  painter  to  paint  him., 
"warts  and  all."  Bairnsfather  sketches  us — smiles  and  all.  And 
who  would  take  the  smiles  off  the  "dials"  of  the  figures  you  will 
see  on  the  pages  that  follow? 


Where  to  Live-[ADvr.i 


IN  ONE  OF  THK  CHOICEST  LOCALITIES  OF 

NORTHERN  FRANCE. 

TO  BE  LET  (three  minute*  from  German  trenchet).  ihi,  attractive  »nd 
WELL'BUILT  DUG-OUT 

c.,nt.inin«    one     recrption-kitchen-bedroom     «nj     UP-TO-DATE     FUNK 
HOLF.   Hft     by  .:ft.  .  all  modern    inconvenience..    incluJinf  «»  and    waler. 

EXCELLENT  SHOOTING  (SNIPE  AND  DUCK). 
-P.rlicul.riof  ihe  lite  Tenant.   Room  6.  Base  Hospiu'.  Boulo«  .c- 


'Where  did  that  one  go  to? 


"What  is  tftis    slifnx  dismal    Hole 
Where  oft   Jm  lurking    like  a  mole 
TWA    cursing   CJermans  heart  and  soul    : 


Where  is  it"  tfca.t  beneatli  the   floor 
The  water's    risirz^  TROTC  ancl  TTZOTC 
7\nd  it/h-ere  the   roof's   a.  broVerc   door? 
-  Out 


Where  is  >t  tKat  I  tr/  to  slee,\> 
3etiutxt   alarms  ,  "uihen  u,]?   I  lea)> 
7W  dash  through  water  foar  feet   deet  ? 

^     -    '-Out 


Where  Is  it  triat   I'll  catch  a  chill 
lose   rnv  only    ermine     bill 

-remain     until 

I'm.  du«  out  ? 


My  Dug-Out:     A  lay  of  the  trenches. 


That  Evening  Star-shell. 

'Oh,  star  of  eve,  whose  tender  beam 
Falls  on  my  spirit's  troubled  dream." 

— Wolfram's  Aria  in"  Tannhduser. 


"They've  evidently  seen  me." 


Situation  Shortly  Vacant. 

In  an  old-fashioned  house  in  France  an  opening  will  shortly  occur  for  a 
young  man,  with  good  prospects  of  getting  a  rise. 


The  Tactless  Teuton. 

A  member  of  the  Gravediggers'  Corps  joking  with  a  private  in  the  Orphans' 
Battalion,  prior  to  a  frontal  attack. 


No  Possible  Doubt  Whatever. 

mouth,  or  I'll 


Sentry  :  "  'Alt !     Who  goes  there  ?  " 

He  of  the  Bundle  :  "  You  shut  yer  

and  knock  yer  -       head  off  ! " 

Sentry  :  "  Pass,  friend !" 


come 


Gott  strafe   this   barbed   wire.' 


"Well,  if  you  knows  of  a  better  'ole,  go  to  it." 


-' 


Will  you.  be 


A  Proposal  in  Flanders. 

The  point  of  Jean's  pitchfork  awakens  a  sense  of  duty  in  a  mine  that 

shirked. 


A  Maxim  Maxim. 

"Fire  should  be  withheld  till  a  favourable  target  presents  itself." 


Our  Adaptable  Armies. 

Private  Jones  (late  "  Zogitoff, "  the  comedy 
wire  artist)  appreciably  reduces  the  quan- 
tity of  hate  per  yard  of  frontage. 


So  Obvious. 

The  Young  and  Talkative  One:     "Who  made  that  'ole?" 
The  Fed-up  One :     "Mice. " 


The  Fatalist. 
!Fm  sure  they'll  'ear  this  damn  thing  squeakinV 


Keeping  His  Hand  In. 

Private  Smith,  the   company  bomber,  formerly  "Shinio,"  the  popular 
juggler,  frequently  causes  considerable  anxiety  to  his  platoon. 


A.D.  Nineteen  Fifty. 
"  I  see  the  War  Babies'  Battalion  is  a  coming  out." 


Frustrated  Ingenuity. 

Owing  to  dawn  breaking  sooner  than  he  anticipated,  that  inventive  fellow, 
Private  Jones,  has  a  trying  time  with  his  latest  creation,  "The  Little 
Plugstreet,"  the  sniper's  friend. 


Directing  the  Way  at  the  Front. 

'Yer  knows  the  dead  'orse  'cross  the  road?     Well,  keep  straight  on  till  yer 
comes  to  a  p'rambulator  'longside  a  Johnson  'ole. " 


The   Late    Comer. 

"Where  'ave  you  been?     'Avin'  your 
bloomin'  fortune  told?" 


The  Eternal  Question. 
"When  the  'ell  is  it  goin'  to  be  strawberry?  " 


TRJnd  about  that 
drinh  this  " 


"The  Push  "-in  Three   Chapters. 
By  one  who's  been  "Pushed." 


The  Spirit  of  our 
Troops  is  Excellent." 


L 


The  Innocent  Abroad. 

Out  since  Mons:     "Well,  what  sort  of  a  night  'ave  yer  'ad?" 
Novice  (but  persistent  optimist):     "Oh,  alright.     'Ad  to  get  out  and  rest 
a  bit  now  and  again. " 


There  goes  our  blinkin'  parapet  again. 


The  Thirst  for  Reprisals. 
'And  me  a  rifle,  someone.    I'll  give  these  — 


-s  'ell  for  this ! ' 


The  Ideal  and  the  Real. 

What  we  should  like  to  see  at  our  billets- 
and  (inset)  what  we  do  see. 


The  Things  that  Matter. 

Scene:     Loos,  during  the  September  offensive. 

Colonel  Fitz-Shrapnel  receives  the  following  message  from  "G.  H.  Q.": — 
"Please  let  us  know,  as  soon  as  possible,  the  number  of  tins  of  raspberry 
jam  issued  to  you  last  Friday." 


The  Soldier's  Dream. 
A  "Bitter"  disappointment  on  waking. 


That  Sword. 
How  he  thought  he  was  going  to  use  it- 


-and  how  he  did  use  it. 


What   It   Really   Feels   Like. 
To  be  on  patrol  duty  at  night-time. 


I 


o 


•a 

s 

0> 

a 


"That    16-inch    Sensation." 


Coiffure  in  the  Trenches. 
"Keep  yer  'ead  still,  or  I'll  'ave  yer  blinkin'  ear  off.' 


Another  Maxim  Maxim. 
"Machine  guns  form  a  valuable  support  for  infantry." 


's  bli  nKJtf  moon 
fee  the  cUa.th  of  as " 


"The  same  old  moon. 


:My    dream    for    years 
to  come. ' 


Never  Again! 
"In  future  I  snipe  from  the  ground." 


Thoroughness. 

"What  time  shall  I  call  you  in  the  morning,  sir?" 

(Colonel  Chutney,  V.C.,  home  on  short  leave,  decides  to  keep  in  touch  with 

dug-out  life.) 


Our  Democratic  Army. 
Member  of  Navvies'  Battalion  (to  Colonel) :     "  I  say,  yer  mate's  dropped 


is  cane. 


cu&yA    -wane/  f 


mi  • 


The  Dud  Shell  —  Or  the  Fuse-Top  Collector. 

"Give  it  a  good  'ard  'un,  Bert;  you  can  generally  'ear  'em  fizzing  a  bit  first 
if  they  are  a-goin'  to  explode. " 


What's  all  this  about  unmarried  men?  " 


That   Hat. 

Top  out  and  get  it,  Bert." 
'Pop  out  yerself. " 


Springtime  in  Flanders. 

"Personally,  I  think  this  is  just  what  you  want 
for  laying  your  eggs  in,  but,  as  Bairnsfather  says, 
'If  you  knows  of  a  better  'ole,  go  to  it.'" 


When  One  Would  Like  to  Start  an  Offensive  on  One's  Own. 

RECIPE  FOR  FEELING  LIKE  THIS— Bully,  biscuits,  no  coke,  and  leave  just 

cancelled. 


Trouble  With  One  of  the  Souvenirs. 
'Old  these  a  minute  while  I  takes  that  blinkin'  smile  off  'is  dial. 


The    Historical    Touch. 
'Well,  Alfred,  'ow  are  the  cakes?" 


X 
X 

c: 
c: 
c: 


£    ." 


O 

§ 

TJ 

C 

a; 
•4-> 
eg 


The  Professional  Touch. 
"  Chuck  us  out  that  bag  o'  bombs,  mate  ;  it's  under  your  'ead." 


The  Conscientious  Exhilarator. 

"Every  encouragement  should  be  given  for  singing  and  whistling." — (Extract 
from  a  "  Military  Manual. ") 

That  painstaking  fellow,  Lieut.  Orpheus,  does  his  best,  but  finds  it  uphill 

work  at  times. 


The  Nest. 

'"Ere,  when  you're  finished,  I'll  borrow  that  there  top  note  of  yours  to  clean 

the  knives  with. " 


Immediate  and  Important! 

Never  has  Private  Smith's  face  felt  so  large  and  smooth  as  when  he  hands 

his  Captain  the  following  message  at  what  he  feels  is  an  unsuitable  moment : 

"The  G.O.C.  notices  with  regret  the  tendency  of  all  ranks  to  shave  the  upper 

lip.     This  practice  must  cease  forthwith." 


Sir  Flanta^enet  5tri/the , 
at  the  tattle   ijf  VIM  OKDINAIRE 
"On!  On!  jx-eh'oUe    Hn^lish!  * 


ni  Lieut   ?.  SniitK ,  al  the  taVunf  4  "dead- ^"f arm 

'Come  on  jyou  chabs'    Well  show  these s 

Which  side  their  — bread's    batTeTccl!  '' 


Other  Times,  Other  Manners. 
The  Decline  of  Poetry  and  Romance  in  \Yar. 


Happy  Memories  of  the  Zoo. 
"What  Time  do  they  Feed  the  Sea-Lions,  Alf? 


Observation. 

"*Ave  a  squint  through  these  'ere,  Bill;  you  can  see  one  of  the 
eatin'  a  sausage  as  clear  as  anythin'." 


Letting  Himself  Down. 

Having  omitted  to  remove  the  elastic  band  prior  to  descent,  Herr  Franz  von 
Flopp  feels  that  the  trial  exhibition  of  his  new  parachute  is  a  failure. 


His  Dual  Obsession. 

Owing  to  the  frequent  recurrence  of  this  dream,  Herr  Fritz  von  Lagershifter 

has  decided  to  take  his  friends'  advice:     Give  up  sausage  late  at  night  and 

brood  less  upon  the  possible  size  of  the  British  Army  next  spring. 


The  Communication  Trench. 

PROBLEM — Whether  to  walk  along  the  top  and  risk  it,  or  do  another  mile 

of  this. 


Valuable  Fragment  from  Flanders:  It  All  Comes  to  This 

in  Time. 

"This  interesting  fragment,  found  near  Ypres  (known  to  the  ancients  as 
Wipers),  throws  a  light  on  a  subject  which  has  long  puzzled  science,  i.e., 
what  was  the  origin  and  meaning  of  those  immense  zigzag  slots  in  the  ground 
stretching  from  Ostend  to  Belfort?  There  is  no  doubt  that  there  was  some 
inter-tribal  war  on  at  this  period. " — Extract  from  "  The  Bystander, "  A.D.  4910. 


In  Nineteen  Something:  General  Sir  Ian  Jelloid  at  Home. 

Having  picked  up  this  cherished  possession  for  a  mere  song  at  a  sale  near 
Verdun,  the  General  has  now  let  his  country  seat,  "Shrapnel  Park,"  and 
says  he  finds  the  new  abode  infinitely  cheaper,  and  not  a  bit  draughty,  if  you 

keep  the  breech  closed. 


Nobbled. 

"'Ow  long  are  you  up  for,  Bill?" 

"Seven  years." 

"  Yer  lucky ,  I'm  duration. " 


The  Intelligence  Department. 

"Is  this  'ere  the  Warwicks?" 

"Nao.     'Indenburg's  blinkin'  Light  Infantry." 


THE   1%  BLOBSHIKE  RIFLES 
EXPEBT  QAS  %  BOMB 
^TR^NCHES  TAKEN  AT  SHORTEST  NOTICED 
v>"  COUNTER  ATTACKS   QUOTED    FOR 

OuaSPECiAUTYJ    MOIOINQ  MINE  cRflreas  FOR  zq, 
^    TfLdQRAPHIC    ADDRESS  "PtUH APPLE."  FtuqSTKEET 


Pushf ulness  at  Plug  Street. 

Colonel  Ian  Jelloid,  of  the  Blobshire  Rifles,  being  an  energetic  and  busi- 
nesslike man,  believes  in  advertising  as  an  antidote  to  stagnant  warfare. 


His  Secret  Sorrow. 

;I  reckon  this  bloke  must  'ave  caught  'is  face  against  some  of  them  forts 

at  Verdun!" 


o 
o 


o 

fi 

a 
-t-> 

i 


-V      o 
G       v 

cd     - 


This    interesting   vieiu.  for    6  ftiontfis  •  •••     or 


This  -for   haljr    an   hoar  * 


,-i,  im?  ivk 

$uX  P  'i 


War! 

—  As  it  is  for  most  of  us. 


A  Matter  of  Moment. 

"What  was  that,  Bill?" 
"Trench  mortar." 
"Ours  or  theirs?" 


Arejxou  there  • 


"S.O.S." 

The  Hard  Lines  of  Communication. 


The  Xe\v  Submarine  Danger. 
"They'll  be  torpedoin'  us  if  we  stick  'ere  much  longer,  Bill." 


Qfcourse  ,  personally   I  dont 
thi'nK    there  is    Aiijone  there r 


ThmKin^     it  over    subsequently    in  Boulogne? 
—  an    impression    of  overcrowding     jiredomirtates 
in  TecollecttonS  of  "straif  hfnin^"  that   b»t  of  Une  li«e 


;  We  Look  Before And  After. " 


Con  Moto  Perpetuo. 

"  OUR  BERT  "  (going  on  leave — having  asked  a  question,  and  having  listened 
to  three  minutes'  unintelligible  eloquence):     "And  'ow  does  the  chorus  go?" 


The  Saint. 

That  indiscrirainating  orb,  the  moon,  gives  Private  Scattergood  a  saintly 

appearance,  sadly  out  of  keeping  with  his  thoughts.     He's  filling  100 

sandbags  at  1 1  p.m. 


Those  Tubular  Trenches. 

"Is  this  right  for  'eadquarters?" 
"Yes,  change  at  Oxford  Circus." 


"LEAVE." 


There  are  times  when  Private  Lightfoot  feels  absolutely  convinced  that  it's 
going  to  be  a  War  of  Exhaustion. 


Real  Sympathy. 

I  wish  you'd  get  something  for  that cough  of  yours.     That's  the  second 

time  you've  blown  the  blinkin'  candle  out!  " 


Entanglements. 
"  Come  on,  Bert,  it's  safer  in  the  trenches. 


Chat  on  'Change. 

You  owes  me  two  francs  and  I  owes  you  one  that's  got  into  the  lining 
of  me  coat;  that  makes  it  right,  don't  it?" 


General   S»r  TrampTon 
XR  T-TO 


"Nancy  "Prendera'a.sb  ,  his 
"        ^    ^~ 


,  luho  >»  blotting 


unKnoum 
her  Tather. 
Shf  is  in  loveVr^ 
with  - 


in^  Mfo  9/bil  Tane 


MANV6RS    *  lance  CorboTal   in 


Steven 
FaiTbtoTHer 


DIcK  shows  hi*  new  bomb  to1R< 

-U)ho  dtcidgt  *fe  av  i^  tn  the  offensive 


But  is  overheard  and  «CM    by 
'  a.n 


END  OF  PART  I 


VltL      FOLLOW 

IMMtDlTVTCLY 

Ft^nJer«  Film    Mf^  (o  -^ 

•  MiluauKct ,  Wisconsin  .      USA.     • 

%•  ••••••^•••••••••MMB  •     J 


How  Dick  Manvers 

Every  familiar  feature  of  the  Film  is  happily  caricatured  by  Captain  Bairns- 
father  in  his  amusing  page  of  pictures.  The  hero,  the  heroine  (with  smile),  the 
villain,  the  heavy  father,  all  of  the  most  approved  pattern — even-thing  down  to 


Nancy,  who 

'     private 

~~ 


,  st^al*  her 
races 

" 


The  Offensive  begins    .  "The  neiu  bomb 
is  found  te  b^  equally  exbiosive    in 
Spire  of  Ca^ain  bl?unCS   da-rK  deed. 


3>onf  you  Know  me  l)icK? 

*J 

ItS^s 

CR' 


General ,  u>ho  has 
a  a  t>itr  on  his  oum, 
txcorties  1he  on  will  in< 
witness   o^  a.  Touching  scene 


ctntTal   having  heard  Their 
,  otdCTS   th« 


Got  His  Star. 

the  meticulous  inaccuracy  characteristic  of  the  American  film  in  matters  of 
detail,  is  shown  with  the  good-natured  sarcasm  befitting  a  master  of  satire  as 
well  as  of  humour,  while  the  story  tells  itself  with  breathless  enthusiasm. 


Overheard  in  an  Orchard. 

Said  the  Apple  to  the  Plum:     "Well,  anyway,  old  man,  they  can  never  ask  us 
what  we  did  in  the  great  war!" 


Under  the  spreading  chestnut  tree  the  village  smithy  stands." 


Augusts  Three. 


"The  Imminent,  Deadly  Breach." 
"Mind  you  don't  fall  through  the  seat  of  yer  trousers,  'Any!" 


w    YTP*W.  .  *^^€1^   "^^S^.  P^^# 


Telepathy. 
"Two  minds  with  but  a  single  thought/' 


LEARN  TO  FICHT 


.An/one     with  a  taste  for  Pishing,  or  Moth  Collecting 

can  learn  to 


e   ca,n  j?ut  a  hooK  in  a  worm  ,  or    a  [?•«    »n  a  moth. 

UJE  DEVELOP  THAT     INSTINCT  ,    and    b^   OUT      Tbst&l     CoUTSe 

Instruction  ,  unit  helj?  .you,  to  earn    b'>^  money 


Sub\ecfe  Tau^kt:- 


This  sketch  shows  tne 
U)orK  of  a  former  jm|>iU 
Tr/this  exercise  .yourself 
on  a  friend^ndtell  us  me 
resu.lt .  lue  ivill  ^t  once 
tell^ou^/our  chances 


oy  Success. 


n  Lieutenant  -writes : — 
tfnfortunateK    I  ha.d  no 

Chajsfcrr  on  U|^*t  Cuts 
OT  I  k*l  Sure  '. 
noT  b«  luhet*  i  am  nou 

^TS  truly 

Clearm  ^  Station 
Cez&mCourt". 


The  demand   jbr  jigjhteTS  exceeds  tt\g  s 
"Write  today 
The  !Asbhvocobomb    School   of   Instruction 


>t,vT] 


Tips  for  Tommies. 

Now  that  the  war  has   become   a   world  business,  we  must  at  any  moment 
expect  the  appearance  of  this  sort  of  thing  in  our  papers. 


v  • 

V  ""' 


"Whilst  tfce  {jreUminary 
that  this  'is    tuhafs 


is  on,  one  «>eTs  the 
to  the  enenvy  machme 


somchou)    or  other,  when  one  .starts 
•fortfiat  liojds     h^ndka^j    across    the  turnip 
,    \t   feels  something   lihe  th'is^. 


The  Offensive. 
What  it  looks  like — and  what  it  feels  like. 


"Where  do  yer  want  this  put,  Sargint?" 


Coming  to  the  Point. 
"Let's  'ave  this  pin  of  yours  a  minute.     I'll  soon  'ave  these  winkles  out  of  'ere. 


•s 


§3 

3  ci 

0  a 

c/p  o 

3  ~fi 

1  1 

S  g 
o 

r^  ** 

H  fe 


Omar  the  Optimist. 

'Here  with  a  loaf  of  bread  beneath  the  row, 
A  muttered  curse,  but  ne'er  a  whine,  and  thou 
Beside  me,  singing  in  the  wilderness. 
The  wilderness  is  Paradise  enow. " 


In  Dixie-Land. 
"Well,  Friday— Ws  Crusoe?" 


Alas!    Poor  Herr  Von  Yorick! 
Fricourt— July,  1916. 


A  Castle  in  the  Air. 
'A  few  more,  Bert,  and  that  there  chateau  won't  he  worth  Hvin'  in." 


The  Freedom  of  the  Seas. 
"  I  wish  they'd  'old  this  war  in  England — don't  you,  Bill?  "    (No  answer.) 


Urgent. 
'Quick,  afore  this  comes  down!" 


That  tin  Hat  £eels  something  like  this  on  the  u/ajy  To  the 

J  Offensive 


about  liKe  TKis^  luhen  JOLL  get  there 


My  Hat! 

Helmets,  Shrapnel,  One. 


Those  Signals. 

THE  VIGILANT  ONE:    "I  say,  old  chap,  what  does  two  green  lights  and 

one  red  one  mean?" 
RECUMBENT   GLADIATOR    (just  back  from  leave):    "Two  crimes  de 

menthe  and  a  cherry  brandy!" 


His  Christmas  Goose. 
"You  wait  till  I  comes  off  dooty!" 


"Old  Moore"  at  the  Front. 

'As  far  as  I  can  make  out  from  this  'ere  prophecy-book,  Bill,  the  seventh 
year  is  going  to  be  the  worst,  and  after  that  every  fourteenth!" 


Supra-Normal. 

Captain  Mills-Bomme's  temperature  cracks  the  thermometer  on  seeing  his 

recent  daring  exploits  described  as  "On  our  right  there  is  nothing  to  report. " 

(He  and  his  battalion  had  merely  occupied  three  lines  of  German  trenches,  and 

held  them  through  a  storm  of  heavy  Lyddite  for  forty-eight  hours.) 


The  Candid  Friend. 
"Well,  yer  know,  I  like  the  photo  of  you  in  your  gas  mask  best. 


The  Long  and  the  Short  of  It. 

UP  LAST  DRAFT:  "I  suppose  you  'as  to  be  careful  'ow  you  looks  over  the 

parapet  about  'ere." 
OUT  SINCE  MONS:  "You  needn't  worry,  me  lad;  the  rats  are  going  to  be 

your  only  trouble." 


Natural  History  of  the  War 

The  Flanders  Sea  Lion  (Leo  Maritimus). 

'An  almost  extinct  amphibian,  first  discovered  in  Flanders  during  the  Winter 

of  1914-15.     Feeds  almost  exclusively  on  Plum  and  Apple  Jam  and 

Rum.     Only  savage  when  the  latter  is  knocked  off." 


Things  that  Irritate. 

Private  Win.  Jones  is  not  half  so  annoyed  at  accidentally  falling  down  the 

mine  crater  as  he  is  at  hearing  two  friends  murmuring  the  first  verse  of 

"Don't  go  down  the  mine,  Daddy." 


Tactical  Developments. 

Private  9998  Blobs  has  always  thought  a  machine  for  imitating  the  sound  of 
ration  parties  (and  thus  drawing  fire)  an  excellent  idea,  but  simply  hates  his 

evening  for  working  it. 


That  "Out  Wiring"  Sensation. 


That  Provost-Marshal  Feeling 
A  sensation  only  to  be  had  at  a  Base — in  other  words,  a  base  sensation. 


Still  Keeping  His  Hand  In. 

Private  Smith  (late  Shinio,  the  popular  juggler)  appreciably  lowers  the  pro- 
tective value  of  his  section's  shrapnel  helmets  by  practising  his  celebrated 
plate  and  basin  spinning  act. 


Those 


Mou  th-Organs . 


;Keep  away  from  the  'ive,  Bert;  Vs  goin'  to  sting  yer!! 


Modern  Topography. 
'Well,  you  see,  here's  the  church  and  there's  the  post-office." 


:t  There  Was  a  Young  Man  of  Cologne." 

(I've  forgotten  the  rest  of  the  poem,  but  it's  something  about  "a  bomb"  and 

"If  only  he'd  known.") 


PQ 


eg      S 


0) 

•3 


•a 


o 

pCS 


m 


Romance,  1917. 
'Darling,  every  potato  that  I  have  is  yours"  (engaged). 


That  Periscope  Sensation. 

"  I  wonder  if  I  oughtn't  to  tell  the  captain  about  that  thing  sticking  up  in  the 

sea  over  there." 


In  the  Support  Trench. 

Old  Bill  has  practically  decided  to  get  Private  Shinio  (the  ex-comedy-juggler 
and  hand-balancer)  transferred  to  another  platoon. 


It's  the  Little  Things  that  Worry. 

What  is  so  particularly  annoying  to  Private  Lovebird  is,  that  he  would  not 
have  had  this  bother  with  his  dug-out  if  his  leave  had  not  been  postponed. 


If  Only  They'd  Make  "Old  Bill"  President  of  Those  Tribunals. 

"Well,  what's  your  job,  me  lad?" 

"Making  spots  for  rocking-horses,  sir." 

"Three  months." 

"Exemption,  sir?" 

" Nao,  exemption  be  —       — d!    Three  months' hard!" 


Stars  is  funny  tHmg'S  afri 


The  Stargazers. 
— and  their  return  to  earth. 


A  Miner  Success. 

"They  must  'ave  'ad  some  good  news  or  somethin',  Alf;  you  can  'ear  'em 

cheerin'  quite  plain." 


Birds  of  111  Omen. 
'There's  evidently  goin'  to  be  an  offensive  around  'ere,  Bert." 


»X«8  ».you»  a,re ,  one  jocund     nineteen 
and    elevenpence    overdrawn  ,  and 
that   includes   next  montfe  ff 


Cox's. 
When  one  feels  rather  in  favour  of  floating  a  War  Loan  of  one  s  own. 


Down  at  the  Ration  Dump. 
'Call  me  a  Tank  again,  my  lad,  and  I'll  knock  yer 


'ead  off!" 


The  Glorious  Fifth. 
"'Ere,  Guy  Fawkes — buzz  off!" 


Unappetising. 

Moments  when  the  Savoy,  the  Alhambra,  and  the  Piccadilly  Grill  seem  very 
far  away  (the  offensive  starts  in  half  an  hour). 


. ._.  VKfflgn 


r  i  - 

f     Le&ve 


Enoch 
arrives    on  leave 


The  train  uias    a  bit 
Utc  r 


That  "Leave"  Train. 


One    often  Hears  UK  question  :— 
"  Uihat'  could   NaV>oleon  have 
done   in  tfi<  " 


•'  H«  could  c*rtafnly  not  have 
Jone  in  jar  tfii«         «  -  > 


\ 


If  u/ould  have  to  lac  tfiis ,     or  nothing 


Other  Times Other  Manners. 


The  Tourists,  19.  .  ? 

'Remember  this  place,  Bert?" 

'Yes,  it's  where  we  used  to  chuck  the  fish  to  you,  ain't  it,  Bill!" ' 


Alas!     My  poor  Brother! 

(In  this  cartoon  Captain  Bairnsf other  refers  to  the  report  that  the  corpxe.t  of 

German  soldiers  fallen  in  battle  were  utilised  in  a  Corpse-Conversion  Factory  for 

the  purpose  of  providing  fats  for  the  Fatherland.) 


Curfew. 

What  particularly  annoys  Lieutenant  Jones,  R.F.A.  (who  thought  he  could 

get  a  better  view  from  the  belfry),  is  that  irritating  prediction  which  keeps 

passing  through  his  head,  "The  curfew  shall  not  ring  to-night.'' 


On  the  "Leave"  Train. 

You  will  never  quite  realise  how  closely  we  are  bound  to  our  French  Ally 

until  you  have  had  the  good  fortune  to  travel  on  one  of  those  "leave"  trains 

— six  a  side,  windows  shut,  fifty  miles  to  go,  and  eighteen  hours  to  do  it ! 


'0£ 

C 


- 
•o 

- 

m 


A   % 


VI 

O      >> 

5  1 


d 

c 
tc 


•a 


George  versus  Germany. 

•Should  Mr.  Robey  be  at  any  time  called  upon  to  go  to  the  Front,  he  must  be 
careful  how  he  does  this:     "I'm  surprised  at  you,  Ludendorff ! " 


A  Puzzle  for  Paderewski. 
It's  a  pity  Alf  ain't  'ere,  Bert;  'e  can  play  the  piana  wonderful. 


"Substitutes"  in  the  Field. 
"  I  thought  you  said  your  uncle  was  a  sending  you  an  umbrella. " 


Leave. 

Dep. :     Padclington  2.15.     Arr.  Home  4. 


ROLLS-DAIMLER,  1917.— Foufseated  Coupe  body  (tres  coupe).  Hardly  been 
used,  beautifully  finished  (almost  completely).  One  dickey  seat  (very  dickey), 
detachable  rims  (two  already  detached).  Only  driven  10  miles  (Albert  to 
Gommecourt).  Excellent  shock  absorber  (has  absorbed  any  amount).  In  excep- 
tional condition.  £650  (or  good  bath  chair).  BARGAIN. — Captain  Somepush, 

No.  2,  Red  Cross,  Rouen. 


(/ 

Merely  a  Warning. 

To  those  who  may  be  contemplating  picking  up  a  Government  car  cheaply 

after  the  war.     Insist  on   seeing  photograph.     Don't  be  satisfied   by  just 

reading  the  advertisements. 


